


Who Lives, Who Dies

by DetectiveAtWork



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hamilton References, Hurt/Comfort, Katara is Eliza Hamilton, Love, Moving On, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveAtWork/pseuds/DetectiveAtWork
Summary: It takes awhile, but, slowly Katara learns to move on.*Heavily inspired by the Hamilton song "Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story"*
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & The Gaang (Avatar)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	Who Lives, Who Dies

**Author's Note:**

> ⚠️!!!WARNING!!!⚠️  
> I would highly, highly recommend listening to the song "Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story" from the Hamilton soundtrack. This can be read without it, but it is essentially inspired by this song and has the lyrics for each section above it. It also would help understand it and help with parallel between Eliza and Katara. 
> 
> Again, you do not need to listen to it, but I would HIGHLY recommend it. 
> 
> Here is a link to a lyric video of the song:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJVnqjCaMsk
> 
> This is my first time ever really doing a song inspired fic, so lemme know how it turns out!

_ “Every other founding father gets to grow old.”  _

  
  


It is not that Katara had left anything unsaid or undone, no, it is nothing like that. She had always prized herself for maturing in a way that wouldn’t leave room for bitterness and hatred, lest she become someone like Hama. 

But, for this, she let the bitterness seep into her. For this, she allowed herself to yell, curse, and scream at the Spirits- at essentially everyone. She knows this world is unfair, perhaps better than any of the new generation does, for they did not see firsthand the cruelty of war. But, out of all the things, she finds that this...this is the ultimate hand played by the Spirits to remind people who holds the real power. 

Avatar Aang had been dead for three days. Dead, at the young age of sixty-six. 

Katara lets a few tears slip out again. She had been spending a majority of her time outside watching the ocean, watching the ebb and flow, and letting that try to tame the inner turmoil she feels. She had told everyone she was going back South, back to her home. Most assumed it was because of the press or the way people looked at her as she walked through the streets. Maybe, it was that to an extent, but it was for something far smaller. 

The night of Aang’s official funeral, she had come home and went into the room her and her husband shared. That was her first mistake. 

She took one look at the bed they shared and broke down. There were touches of him everywhere. In the worn meditation mat by the window, the rumpled bedspread, the clothes that still smelt of _ him.  _ Aang had overflowed any room he was in by just being  _ there _ and being himself, so of course the room would still be full of him and his presence without him needing to even be there. 

She had tried to sleep in the bed, but it felt so wrong. She kept expecting him to rush in or have her side of the bed dip when he would nestle next to her. They had spent fifty four years together. How was she to move on?

Knowing she wouldn’t find rest or peace anytime soon, she had headed outside to where some of the Air Acolytes were finishing up their evening meditation. She was walking to her favorite part of the island, where the view from the ocean was unobstructed and she could see the city in all of its glory and the tiny island overgrown with nature. She loved the juxtaposition. 

“I was reading the other day and I found out that one of the Avatars had lived to two-hundred thirty!” One of the Acolytes exclaimed. It was said in a hush, but Katara heard it anyway. She felt the anger bubble up in her as the tide began to come in. 

For the days and weeks leading up to Aang’s demise, it was all she could think about. She had known part of the reason was that Aang had spent so long in that iceberg. She also knew that Aang had harbored no ill will towards his upcoming demise, stating that  _ “My time is my time, there is nothing to do but accept that.” _ She tried and failed. Part of her was angry at his quick acceptance.

It was not fair that the other Avatars had gotten to live to old age, live with their loved ones, and live in the world they built. Katara cried. Their lives had been full of war and anguish and peace and prosperity had just come to stay. There was not enough time in the world for them to truly enjoy what this new world has to offer. 

Despite this, Katara would not change a single thing. She selfishly covets her time with Aang; it’s the only thing she  _ can  _ do. She looks back to the ocean, the tide has come in, rising on the rocks. She looks out to the new world, bathed in starlight, then back to the place where she and Aang had lived most of their lives. 

She wanted to go home. _But how could she if he is not here?_

  
  


~~~

_ “I stop wasting time on tears.”  _

  
  


She thinks this is what Aang meant when he said he accepted his fate. See, she had been naive enough to believe that acceptance meant not  _ feeling  _ anymore. That once you have accepted something, there is no emotional response anymore. 

She is sorely mistaken, yet, she is glad. 

The thought of him no longer brings her to a deep grief. Instead, she can happily remember the way he had greeted her in the morning, how much honey he liked in his tea, and she can look at penguins again without needing to excuse herself. 

Kya helps as well. Having her here helping feels familiar in a way that only the two of them can share. 

_ ‘Water is the element of change’ _ is the first lesson any water bender or Water Tribe member learns. One must be able to adapt and change as the surroundings do. Katara had always prided herself for her ability to do this, the strength her younger self had to go against adversity and keep going despite fear and grief. 

She reminds herself that grief is nothing new, she had known the feeling for almost her whole life, it is just a matter of telling herself to  _ keep going. _

Katara could not allow herself to be at war within herself when they have achieved peace. Aang would not want that. She takes a deep breath and exits her house to join the world. 

~~~

_ “I interviewed every soldier who fought by your side (She tells our story).” _

  
  


She is helping heal a hunting injury when she hears the radio (what a unique contraption) sputter and say something  _ so _ wrong. It’s one of those storytelling channels that she mainly keeps on to entertain the children.This one is about the Hundred Year War, with voice actors and everything. She pauses her healing to listen to what it has to say and shakes her head. The injury takes no longer than three minutes to heal and afterwards she is alone in the clinic. 

Days later it is all she can think about. 

She calls upon Sokka, who is visiting home as well, and the two of them bond over the sea prunes Kya had made them and reminisce. She takes a sip of her tea and levels a stare at her brother. 

“Did you hear what they said on the radio?” He must have, judging by the way he pauses his drink midair and closes his eyes. He sighs. 

“Katara-” he starts. 

“No, don’t ‘Katara’ me! You heard what they said! They said that Jet was on the Dai Li’s side and  _ supported the Fire Nation!” _ The tea in her hand threatens to turn to ice and she gives a sigh. Sokka puts his cup down and rubs his hand down his face. Katara watches as he tries to figure out what to say. He looks tired and, for the first time in awhile, she wonders how things are in the city. 

“I heard it and it was disheartening-”

“Disheartening?! He would be rolling around in his grave! It is an insult to his memory!” Sokka holds out a placating hand. 

“I know Katara! Except there is  _ no _ source of information, only _ us _ to say what happened.” He rubs a hand down his face again and she can see the dark circles and wrinkles smooth out and bunch back together. “I mean it’s not like our version ever really got put in the textbooks, we only ever told people what happened.” That makes Katara blink. Though her children had only ever gone to traditional school when they were able to, they had mainly relied on her and Aang for the telling of history. She hadn’t realized that not everyone had parents or even relatives that knew exactly what happened during the war. 

Sokka leaves the next day and that is when Katara starts. She begins to write about her mother, the boy in the iceberg, the places and people they went, their hardships, betrayals, losses, victories-  _ everything. _ She tells the story of Team Avatar, but also those who helped or hindered them. 

She writes to Zuko, Toph, Sokka, and Suki getting their stories and point of view. She writes and writes, letting her grief and pent up emotions flow to the words on the paper. 

She brings back story telling. Weekly, the tribe can meet in the community center to listen to the stories of the elders and the stories of those who were not here to tell them. It starts small, but over time people come from all over to hear the stories told by her about her friends. It reminds her of how it used to be: families huddled into one igloo to hear the stories of their ancestors. The crowd is easily four times it was when she was a girl and it's things like that that make Katara’s body fill with warmth. 

She watches as the children whisper excitedly among themselves and when the sailors and traders come into port she hears them speak the  _ truth. _

She feels relief and hopes that those who fought alongside them can be at peace. The people will not forget them. 

~~~

_ “She is buried in Trinity church near you…”  _

She feels it before the news comes to her. She doesn’t know how, but she is going over basic formations with the children when she suddenly feels a loss and emptiness. She excuses herself from the session, citing that she wants the older students to teach and heads to her house. 

The feeling doesn’t go away and instead festers inside her like those tricky infections she still had trouble healing. She knows what this means and it's sad to think that she is used to the ugly feeling fermenting inside her. She takes a seat at the table and waits. 

She sits there with Kya, not explaining why she feels this way to her daughter. They sit at the table until there is no more light and they are just about to get ready for bed when she hears the flapping of a large beast. 

It’s Zuko on Druk and he looks as if someone has gutted him. They stare at each other and no words need to be spoken for Katara to decipher what happened. 

“Uncle Zuko? What’s wrong?” It’s Kya who speaks up and ushers them inside. The flame that was dying down shoots to life once Zuko is in the vicinity of it. He forgoes any introductions and waits until they are seated. 

“Sokka is dead,” his voice is barely above a whisper and Katara hears Kya gasp out. Katara watches the flame dance. “He gave his life to protect the Avatar from the Red Lotus.” 

The name was familiar. Though she has been out of commission in a governing or world leader sense, her name still pulls enough weight to get information. Plus, Tenzin and Sokka both kept her updated on any Avatar related issues. The last he’d written is that the Red Lotus had nefarious plans and that he and the other nations were going to stop them. Katara gave a bitter grin. Sokka had gotten what he’d always wanted. A warrior’s death. 

“I’m so sorry, Katara,” Zuko murmured. He stood abruptly, placing himself next to the fire that was so large it threatened to escape the hearth. Kya seemed speechless, soaking in the information. Katara got up to stand next to him. 

“The others?” Katara asked. She placed a hand on his shoulder. He had lost a brother too.

“Everyone is fine, we have plans to place her down here, in a compound.” Zuko said the word with disdain and Katara couldn’t help but agree that that sounded awful. 

The two stood side by side and when Katara squeezed his shoulder, he sagged and she went with him. The two held onto each other for dear life, hugging. The fire roared next to them and flickered with each stutter of Zuko’s breath. She knew her tears soaked his silk robes and she could feel her own shoulder start to feel wet with his as well. They broke apart and she invited Kya in for a hug who was sobbing. Afterwards, the three of them stayed silent in the room until the sun rose. 

After all of the funerals and ceremonies (Zuko had made sure no expense was spared, Sokka would have  _ loved _ it) Katara finds herself alone. She has had many fears over the years, some have changed, some have gone away, but there was always one stuck in the back of her mind. It was at the worst times where it would prickle to life and taint Katara’s whole mood. There was no need to be afraid of it now, it had come true. 

_ I’m an only child now,  _ she thought. She stares at the expanse of white the two of them call home in the moonlight. 

Her whole life it had been her and Sokka against the world, their bond was so strong and pure that the two of them could never comprehend a relationship like Zuko and Azula. They grew up relying on each other and sure, they fought constantly, but what group of siblings didn’t?

Her grandmother and father used to hate it when they fought. Katara did too. She remembered how awful it felt to hold such irate feelings inside of her, how those feelings should never be felt for someone she loved. Yet, he was infuriating and insufferable, even as the two aged. 

She stares at the snow and watches the ocean. Out of habit she reaches for the water around her and before she knows it, she’s shaping it into a tiny watchtower. It is something she had much practice doing and can do it by hand or by bending because she used to knock it down all the time. Staring at it she feels the same twinge of hatred and anger at the Spirits as she had for Aang. 

She lets the pain of grief ebb and flow within her and stares at the crescent moon. 

“Watch over him for me, Yue,” she whispers. 

  
  


~~~

_ “ _ _ You could have done so much more if you only had time.” _

  
  


She’s invited to the unveiling of Avatar Aang Memorial Island. 

The statue is huge and ostentatious. Looking over to Zuko, they both share a knowing smile that Aang would absolutely _ hate  _ it. 

Still, her whole family is here and they sit pretty for the cameras and listen to all of those speak about her husband as if they knew him. 

She thinks that Sokka would absolutely love this ceremony, that Toph would find it tedious and challenge that she could make a bigger and better statue...She thinks that Aang would love the excuse to see their friends and family, even if it meant sitting through something boring and superfluous. 

The building is a museum of sorts, pertaining to the Hundred Year War. They have her writings and stories along with some of Aang’s own writing. His accomplishments are listed and showcased with art to go with it. There are even little exhibits about each of the Team Avatar members. It’s odd seeing someone she knew so personally to be summed up by bullet points in a pamphlet. She wonders what else could’ve been on this paper if his life had not been stunted in the iceberg. 

She doesn’t stay longer than she needs to and she only spares a glance back at the statue once before looking away in disgust. A warm breeze ruffles her hair and she gives a watery laugh, before heading back inside. 

~~~

_ “Can I show you what I’m proudest of?”  _

  
  


It’s funny because, as time goes on, Katara thought that her hardships would lessen. Instead, she finds herself facing a more difficult challenge. Defeating Fire Lord Ozai now seems like a breeze compared to raising three children, two of which being benders. She thought that nearing the twilight of her life she might have been granted some peace and, yet again, the Spirits prove her wrong. 

She refuses the compound, stating that no child, Avatar or not, could learn in that environment. She gets sealed approval from Zuko and every day, Korra is escorted to Katara by White Lotus members for her training. 

_ This, _ Katara remarks to herself when they first began, _ is the hardest thing she has ever done.  _

“Master Katara!” Her little voice rings out. It took two months before Katara could get through the day without breaking down. Korra would leave and Katara would hide herself away in her room and cry for something she could not have. 

But, water is the element of change. And Korra takes to waterbending like Yue herself. 

The two of them go over their formations and, as time passes, Korra is ready for her next element. They don’t admit it yet. Katara sees that Korra values this freedom over any bending or power she has. So, the two of them relax and spar. 

And when Korra uses the exact same move that Aang always did to dump water on her, she finds that it is okay to let a few tears loose. Years and months ago that act would’ve broken her down. She is proud of how far she has come and she knows Aang would be too. 

She remembers one of the last conversations they had, how she told him she would try her hardest, thinking, at the time, how it would be impossible. 

Her world was ending and here he was, already thinking about the future without him in it. She had taken the cowards way out and agreed to appease him, not knowing that one day she would fulfill one of his last wishes. 

_ “Please,”  _ he had told her,  _ “I want you to be my first teacher again.”  _

  
  


~~~

_ “In their eyes I see you, Alexander, I see you every time!”  _

  
  


It takes her years to realize that Aang has not truly left her. 

She sees him in the world around her. The air, the water, the sun on a hot day- she feels him. In the people she loves she sees him. 

Bumi has his streak for attracting trouble and the crazy schemes he always manages to get himself into. Kya has his compassion and open mindedness, always seeing the good in people. Tenzin, well, sometimes out of the corner of her eye she will think that it's Aang. Despite that, he inherited his father’s sense of duty and loyalty. 

She sees him in her grandchildren, the next generation of Air Nomads. Katara grieves that he himself is not here to play with them and watch as they grow to master the element of his people. 

In fact, it's hard  _ not  _ to see him. Every good and happy thing she sees reminds her of him, whether it be her grandchildren sharing his eyes or a beautiful changing of seasons. 

It’s not surprising that she sees him in Korra. And yet, it sort of is. 

The two of them couldn’t have been more different, but sometimes she will say or do something that is so  _ Aang _ she wonders if she could tap on Korra’s skull and ask if he’s there. The way she moves, or the little smirk she gives that only quirks one side of her mouth. 

Sometimes, she catches herself staring and has to remind herself that Korra is her own person. Then, she will see her children doing the same and she knows they see it too. 

It isn’t until she’s kneeling in front of her, trying to heal her, that she sees that all along, they have the same eyes. It might not be the same color, but there is something so  _ familiar  _ in them that she finds herself entranced. 

It’s almost a cruel trick, to be reminded of him in such a manner. Then again, she thinks it would be worse to not see him at all. 

  
  


~~~

_ “Oh, I can’t wait to see you again. It’s only a matter of time…”  _

  
  


It’s not that she wants to leave, it’s just that she’s ready. It’s almost like when she used to pack their supplies and wait by Appa for the others; she didn’t mind waiting, but she also wouldn’t mind leaving either. 

She has lived a long and full life and for that she does thank the Spirits. She had gotten to see her children and her children’s children, something that not everyone has the opportunity too. Her life was accomplished as well, she feels that there really is nothing more she could do, she has done everything she has ever wanted and then some. She has loved and she has lost. 

She knows she has slowed down. She can no longer work the long hours at the clinic or stay up late to tell stories. She calls upon her family, much like their father had done, and they all stay together, just as Katara wished. 

They have dinner, there is laughter and crying, but more importantly love. She goes to bed that night warmer and fuller than ever. Her head hits the pillow and soon she is fast asleep. 

She is dreaming. She sees her home, the one during the war, and her family. She runs to hug her mother, father, grandmother, and brother before taking in her surroundings. It’s just how she remembers it. She’s giddy with excitement, telling them everything they have missed when a hand taps her shoulder. 

He looks the same, standing in his orange and yellow robes. He’s smiling and the both of them have tears in their eyes. 

_ “Come, my love. Let’s go penguin sledding,”  _ he says and holds out his hand. 

She takes it. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So, first ever time doing a song fic! This was not what I originally wanted to post, I am working on a longer piece, but the plot bunny jumping in my head said otherwise. 
> 
> I love Hamilton and after listening to the soundtrack fo the umpteenth time, I really, really saw the parallels between Eliza and Katara (specifically LoK Katara (no cheating tho!!)) and after listening to this song, there were SO many similarities between the two as Eliza tries to move on without Alexander-it is exactly what I imagined for Katara trying to move on and live in a world without Aang. 
> 
> Sadly, with the semester starting (my hardest one yet!) I don't think I will be able to write anything in the foreseeable future, except if I finish my other story :(. I hope to come back to writing soon, its just this semester is going to call me son and well, test my sanity on all levels. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
